


Where Credit Is Due

by tigerlady (shetiger)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Board Games, F/M, Languages and Linguistics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-08
Updated: 2010-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shetiger/pseuds/tigerlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He traces the beginning back to one insufferable Rodney McKay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Credit Is Due

Looking back, Radek thinks that if he can pull out one thread of the crazy web of coincidence and minor decisions that led them to this point, the true starting point of it all is that he just couldn't stand to be left in the dust by one infuriating, impossible, insufferable Doctor Rodney McKay.

When Radek first arrived in Antarctica, his English was passable. In fact, at the time he considered his skill to be quite good, especially in comparison to many of his colleagues. He still preferred to use his mother tongue, of course. Or even Russian, though doing so tended to leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. But his English was fine, as long as he had time to think about it. The English words tended to slip away even more easily than the German ones did when he was rushed or stressed. There just so many of them. And the idioms were the bane of his existence.

It wasn't a problem, though, not with so many who spoke such a variety of languages. The technical terms were always easy enough to share, and math was always math. Hand gestures served remarkably well when one couldn't find the exact verb in a shared language. Radek didn't worry about it–until he began working with McKay more.

About forty-eight hours after the city rose (the most magnificent thing he had ever experienced, seeing the stunning scope of Ancient engineering all around him, staring out at the sun as water cascaded away from the windows), McKay barged into the room they were trying to set up as a structural integrity testing lab and started shouting things.

"Zadenka, right? I was going over everyone's vitae again and I think you're the one we need for this." And then there was a spate of information so fast he had no hope of understanding. Radek suspected that a native speaker would not have understood it, either, but that did not soothe the ire and frustrated embarrassment that burned within him when McKay stopped and rolled his eyes. "You're not getting any of this, are you? Okay, once more from the top, the elementary school version."

"Just because I do not speak English well, this does not mean I am stupid," Radek broke in. He had faced many obstacles more intimidating than McKay, and he was not about to cower like a frightened first year grad student.

"No, of course not," McKay agreed with a hefty sigh. "You can be an idiot in any language. Now, where were we?"

Right then and there, Radek had resolved that he would never be caught flat-footed again. It was perhaps an overambitious resolution--there was so much work to be done simply to survive. Physical work setting up the labs, theoretical work making sure the city did not sink or explode or any of the other catastrophes McKay constantly predicted. Then there were the many meetings that yes, were actually necessary and productive, but stole time away from things he would prefer to be doing. After all of that, Radek was left with only a short snatch of time to tackle his self-appointed task.

But tackle it, he did. Each evening he would sit at his computer and study the language programs he had brought with him. He would look up the words he remembered from earlier conversations but not understood. He would read and listen and do children's games to practice all the silly quirks of the damn language. During the days, he would sit near the English speakers at the meetings and their meals.

Soon, he was speaking in English more than any other language. Even his own.

Radek didn't realize exactly how much he had improved until one afternoon, McKay spun around in his chair and started speaking to him like they were in the middle of a discussion--something that had been happening more often recently.

"Did you know Simpson actually brought a Scrabble game to Atlantis?"

"Scrabble?" Radek asked, still mostly invested in the power consumption curves for the puddlejumpers.

"You know, the word game with the square tiles? I can't imagine why anyone would choose that over everything else." McKay wiggled his hand back and forth, but that was one language Radek had not learned yet. "Still, it's entertainment."

"Hmm," Radek agreed absently. He had a vague impression of the game McKay was talking about. He thought he had seen it on television at some point, or perhaps in the rec room in Antarctica.

"You should come. To Scrabble night."

That got his full attention. He and McKay spent a lot of time together, yes, and their working relationship was good, if noisy and competitive. But McKay still forgot Radek's last name half the time. "I could not possibly," he started to say. "My English--"

"Oh, right, right." McKay turned fully towards Radek, smug smile sliding across his cheeks. "We'd wipe the board with you. I shouldn't have asked."

"I didn't say that," Radek had replied, knowing even as he said it that McKay thought he was being cunning. Unfortunately, Radek had almost as much pride as McKay himself, so the tactic worked. He expected he wouldn't come close to winning, but he would be damned if he backed down in front of McKay without even trying.

What he didn't expect was that Elizabeth Weir would be the fourth in their game.

He saw her fairly often--she was always at the weekly staff meetings, and she came to the labs from time to time to satisfy her curiosity--but he had never spoken to her socially.

"Doctor Zelenka," she had greeted with a warm smile. She always knew his name, though it always slid through her mouth in that slippery way that English speakers had. "I'm glad you decided to join us."

"It is my pleasure," he told her, but her presence unnerved him at first. He refused her offer of a handicap; McKay would never let him hear the end of it if he accepted. Besides, he was there to learn. He loved learning, and he was starting to have a strange fondness for the language.

It was not totally unlike his relationship with McKay.

"Oh, now that's not a word," McKay squawked on Radek's third turn.

"It is too a word," he snapped back, even though inside he was scrambling through his mental dictionaries, trying to figure out if he had conjugated improperly.

"Oh, what, in Czech?"

"It's not Czech, Rodney," Dr. Weir said firmly.

And then she winked at Radek.

His mental dictionaries crashed to the floor, pages rumpled, some scattered to the metaphorical wind. His heart squirmed in his chest and other parts became unruly as well, coaxed by nothing more than her beautiful smile. He was vaguely aware of Rodney making a grudging concession and Simpson tallying his points. Dr. Weir turned back to her tiles, but her spell didn't slip its hold.

The rest of the game passed in a fugue. He did poorly, ending in last place. There was respect in his colleagues' eyes, however, and that was good enough.

The real prize was Dr. Weir following him out of the room.

"You did very well, Doctor Zelenka," she told him, another one of those magical smiles on her face.

He shrugged. "I believe McKay invited me so he would shine even more brightly."

"I don't think you're wrong," she said, bending her head towards him as if sharing a confidence. "Rodney is overly competitive at times."

"At times?"

She laughed, the sound deeper and more free than he had expected. "I think you gave him more competition than he was expecting," she said when she had calmed some. "I've noticed your English improving lately, but giving a native speaker a run for their money at Scrabble is impressive."

Radek flushed; he hoped that the dim light of the corridor would hide it. He was pleased by her compliment, and by the fact that she had noticed him, but at the same time it burned to realize that his speech had been so poor at first.

"Ah, thank you," he finally said. "Vocabulary is only a matter of memorization. Using the little words, that is the hard part."

"Don't I know it," she said dryly, her voice making things squirm once again. She paused at the junction of the corridors leading to the living quarters. "Languages are something of a passion of mine. If you ever need something clarified, feel free to ask me."

She smiled and nodded good night, leaving Radek stuck between English and Czech as she walked away. He headed down his own hall with his head in the clouds, his new infatuation following him into his dreams.

There was more Scrabble after that. Games where he held his own, and where he learned to relax around Dr. Weir. And to begin calling her 'Elizabeth', if only in his head.

Unfortunately, everything went to hell around them after only a few months. The storm came, and with it the Genii. Then there were the nanites, and just when Radek thought they might be able to relax, there was the Wraith, Wraith, and more Wraith. The Scrabble games were only a vaguely pleasant memory as they fought to stay alive.

But then the Daedalus miraculously arrived, and things settled back down to a level where they could breathe once again. Shortly after Elizabeth and the others returned from Earth, Radek realized how much had changed in those frightening months. He couldn't remember the last time he had consulted a dictionary. He sat with the command team most days at meals and in meetings, speaking English with no effort.

And: Elizabeth called him 'Radek' on a regular basis. Always with a warm smile that said she was truly glad to know him. She still made his stomach squirm, but there was more to his reaction than simple lust or infatuation. He felt warm around her. Like he was a different being when she was in the room, as if he was as affected by her presence as Atlantis was by a gene carrier's.

He wanted to spend more time with her, without actually having to ask her out on a date. He didn't feel like he could take advantage of her previous offer of help with his English, not when it was so obvious he did not need it. Thankfully, Rodney provided the path once again.

"So nobody in the entire city is worth playing chess with," Colonel Sheppard said as he and Rodney walked into the lab.

"Not really, no." Rodney didn't even acknowledge Radek's presence, much less the glare aimed at his back. "Not for someone of my caliber, anyway."

"Which in McKay-speak means there are only two other people here who even play," Sheppard taunted.

Rodney dropped into his chair, swiveling to face Sheppard. "That all depends on your definition of play, now doesn't it?"

Sheppard snorted. "Play. You know, move pieces around according to the rules, have a little fun in the process."

"Ah, yes, that's what I thought you meant. The layperson's definition." Rodney smirked; Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Going by that, most all of the scientists 'play'. I couldn't tell you about the military contingent, although I wouldn't really be surprised. It's that whole 'need to conquer things'."

"Rodney," Sheppard warned in a low voice.

Rodney threw his hands out. "Just an observation! Anyway, there's a lot. I mean, even Elizabeth plays."

Which was how Radek wound up hesitating inside the door of Elizabeth's office after the next day's meeting. He had almost talked himself out of his plan, deciding to slip away unnoticed, when she looked up from her notes.

"Radek?"

"Ah, Elizabeth." _Caught_ , he thought, and turned to face her more fully, courage gathered in both hands. "I was wondering if sometime you would like to play chess. With me."

"I would love to," she said immediately, a radiant smile crossing her face. It surprised him how pleased she looked; Radek wondered if no one had ever asked her to play. Everyone knew Elizabeth had a gift for words, but perhaps they overlooked her other skills.

"Good." He found himself at a loss, not having looked beyond the asking part. "Then perhaps..."

"Tonight?" she offered. "Unless you had plans."

"No, no, tonight is good."

Elizabeth smiled once more and returned to her work. Radek tried not to skip back to the lab like a little girl. They met in the cafeteria that evening, sharing a meal together before claiming the chess board for themselves.

Elizabeth was good. Not to Radek's level, but that was all right, since it gave him plenty of time to study her between moves. Elizabeth played with a bright-eyed intensity that thrilled him. Some people (such as Rodney) had a blood-thirsty need to utterly crush their opponents. Others did well while they were leading, but lost complete confidence when the board swayed in their adversary's favor. But for Elizabeth, each move seemed satisfying in itself. As if she had accomplished something by setting another puzzle piece into place. Radek wondered if that was how she approached negotiations.

"Penny for your thoughts," she asked, pulling her finger from her remaining bishop.

"My hourly rates have suffered since I came to Atlantis," he teased as he pondered his choices on the board. The route to victory was clear, but he wasn't ready for the game to end. "Perhaps I should up them."

Elizabeth laughed softly. "I was hoping you would give me the friends' discount."

Radek looked up, warmth filling him from head to toe. "For you, there is no charge. I was simply thinking of you and our game."

"Uh-huh," she said, eyebrow lifting playfully. "That's all, huh?"

"You are more than enough to keep me occupied," he murmured, looking back down at the board so he didn't have to see her face. Radek pushed his rook forward, knowing that if he did not take the opportunity, she would be hurt by his condescension.

"I was hoping you wouldn't see that," she said, voice dry. "I guess that's what I get for trying to distract you."

Radek smiled, peeking at her over the rim of his glasses. "It is a sound tactic."

Some of his true feelings must have leaked into his eyes, or perhaps he was not being as subtle as he wished, for she blushed and looked down at the board again. "I don't have a lot of choices here, do I?"

Radek considered the playing field from her point of view. "You have choices," he mused. "Some might even keep you in the game for a bit."

Her eyes narrowed–but at him, not at the game. Radek fought the urge to lean away from her measuring gaze.

"Mmm, yes," she said after a moment. "One of the trickiest skills in negotiating is knowing when to retreat." She reached out and tipped over her king. Then she smiled an almost evil smile. "And when to go on the offensive."

Radek's eyebrows rose. "Should I be worried?"

"We'll see in our rematch," she assured him. "Tomorrow night?"

"I shall look forward to it."

"Wonderful." Elizabeth stood, picking up her water glass as she prepared to leave. "Oh, and Radek? Why don't we meet in my quarters tomorrow?"

'Things' didn't happen during that very next meeting, but it was not long after that Radek discovered Elizabeth shares more than his passion for chess and English.

So yes, Radek thinks that maybe he owes Rodney a very large debt of gratitude. It is a debt he will repay silently, however. McKay is impossible enough without knowing that his ego is responsible for uniting Radek with the love of his life.


End file.
